


Why Is The World Red?

by princey_pie



Series: Dear Diary Universe [4]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Gen, High School, diet culture, fatphobia, weight/food talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 10:46:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30087906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princey_pie/pseuds/princey_pie
Summary: Logan disliked the color red for a reason.
Series: Dear Diary Universe [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1193599
Kudos: 12
Collections: TSS Fanworks Collective





	Why Is The World Red?

Logan’s least favorite color was red.

His dislike started with an apple, a nice round red apple. 

“Sweet & healthy, the perfect snack for a growing boy,” his mother said as she cut it up for him, “after all we need to cut on the jam. You have to be careful or you’ll get fat, Logan dear.”

It was fine, Logan liked apples. 

But then the next day it was apple again. And again, again and again. From then on it was an endless stream of apples, strawberries, cherries, tomatoes, red pepper bells, and raspberries. Which would have been fine if it didn't mean that there wasn't even a jar of his favorite jam for special occasions in the fridge anymore.

Logan knew how to count to 44 before his peers in the first grade, it was the number of pounds the scale flashed in neon red when his mom would weigh him. When she furrowed her brows in disappointment. He knew that expression meant another apple for snack time tomorrow. The numbers grew as he got older of course, but her expression never changed.

Logan loved books, once he got the hack of reading real books it took a lot to get his nose out of them. He still got a flashy red bike for his 8th birthday. His father claimed it would get him out of the house more, burn some of the baby fat before it stuck. Logan didn't have much time to read his books that summer, always chased outside on the red steel frame that made his joints ache.

In 4th grade Logan was excited. His teacher had said that they were going to keep a journal for a day and get stickers for their achievements. His eagerness only dimmed a little when Mrs. Trent explained that they should write down what they ate for each meal and all their snacks as well as any kind of "sporty" outdoor activities.

The stickers would still be nice and Logan liked making and organizing lists. He made sure to keep his journal spreadsheet immaculate, no matter how much his brother messed around with his hot chocolate at breakfast the next day. Logan sipped his diluted orange juice and wrote down the amount immediately so he wouldn't forget.

After school Logan unlocked the door with a grin. On Wednesdays, his mom had to work the afternoon and his brother had soccer practice, so Logan would be home alone and be able to read undisturbed until his father got home at 5 pm. 

His alarm clock went off at 4 pm. Logan tugged his shoes back on and started a quiet walk through the fields behind his house. After all, he didn't want his teacher to think that he wasn't taking the assignment seriously. He returned home, quite tired and with a slightly aching back but content with himself, just as his dad pulled into the driveway.

The next day he proudly handed his journal to his teacher, the dinner ingredients from last night listed as neatly as the rest. Logan really liked how the dark blue ink looked against the white paper, proud to be allowed to write with ink unlike some of the other kids who still had to use pencils.

Mrs. Trent took the journals from the class and went through them one by one, standing in front of the poster at the door that showed a pyramid painted of different cartoonish foods with little blank dots where the stickers would go. She added a green one every time she found that fruit and vegetables in the meal lists outweighed the sweets, praising the student, as well as for any physical activity.

Logan's was one of the last ones. By now there was a seizable row of green stickers on the poster. Then she read his entries and frowned. 

"Now Logan," she said, looking at him over her red-framed glasses, "that surely can't be all you ate." 

Logan protested, of course, but he could see that she didn't believe him. It was the same look his mother aimed at him when he told her that he didn't take food from the snack drawer, that it had been his brother despite him never gaining any weight to prove it. 

Mrs. Trent luckily still added a green sticker for the mushrooms in his dinner. 

But apparently, she wasn't finished with his spreadsheet yet. Logan felt cold and wanted to cry as he numbly listened to her tell him that his walk didn't count. That he needed to put in some effort in order to live healthily. His classmates shot him disgruntled looks as she added a little red dot onto the poster. It stood out like a sore thumb between its peers for the following weeks until the school year ended.

On his 12th birthday, Logan got clothes from his aunt and uncle, a bright red sports shirt that was at least a size too big, and a pair of hideous wine red sweatpants. So that cars would see him when he would go jogging. 

He shoved them in the depths of his closet, to the rest of the sport related items he had been gifted and had never used. Two months later his brother got a gameboy for his birthday.

He took art class as his elective in middle school. The "C-" in red marker glared at him while his project partner, a friendly if short boy with blonde curls and a spring in his step, walked out of the classroom with a “B+” and a smiley drawn next to it. Logan switched to advanced algebra.

All the way through high school and college Logan hated the beeping alarms from the app that linked to his fitness watch that screamed at him in big bold red letters to get up, get out, to complete his workout, to achieve his steps of the day, to drink water, to avoid sugar, to take the steps instead of the elevator, to ask himself if he was truly hungry before eating. Logan listened. Anything to get rid of the red.


End file.
